The Winchester That Wasn't
by Supervillegirl
Summary: Sam & Dean run across a myserious girl that is familiar for weird reasons. Who is that masked chick? Kyle XY Crossover.
1. Chapter 1

The Winchester That Wasn't

A crossover between the shows "Supernatural" and "Kyle XY"

Set in between 4x19 and 4x20

(I apologize for all cussing. You know the Winchesters.)

Chapter One

Sam and Dean Winchester ran along the alley in Westhaven, searching for the vampire that they had been chasing for the past fifteen minutes. They had their guns aimed low, ready to swing them up to release the bullets soaked in dead man's blood. Dean hit the end of the alley wall and braced himself against it, preparing to round the corner. Sam eased up next to him, holding his gun up as he waited for his older brother to make the next move.

Dean swung around the corner as Sam ran across to the opposite side of the alley to cover Dean. They froze when they spotted a crumpled mass at the end of the alley. Dean glanced at Sam and approached the form on the ground, jaw set and gun aimed. Sam followed at a close distance, ready for anything. Dean reached his foot forward and nudged the body. He steadied himself as the body rolled over, leaving its head behind.

Dean groaned and lowered his gun. "Well, that's just great. Nice going, Sam."

Sam snapped his head around to glare at his brother. "Me? What did I do?"

"You had to get yourself kidnapped, and the vampire had time to make another kill," Dean grumbled. He looked around to see if anyone was around, and was thrown off slightly when Sam didn't retort at him. He turned to see that Sam was kneeling over the body. "Dude, what's with the silent treatment?"

"Hey, Dean, check this out…" said Sam as he reached for the head.

"I think I'll pass, freak," said Dean.

"Dude, just get over here," Sam bit off. Dean went around the other side of the body and knelt down as Sam rolled the head over.

Dean's eyes widened. "Huh…well, that's new…kind of…" Dean reached a hand down and reluctantly raised the lip up to check for the fangs, just in case. "Yeah, that's our vamp. What the hell?"

"Another hunter?" asked Sam.

"If he wasn't dead, I'd be expecting Gordon any second," Dean grumbled.

"So, a hunter in town somewhere was hunting the same vampire and got to it before we did?"

"Looks like. The question is, who?"

Dean was staring so intently at the body that he didn't notice something was wrong until he heard Sam gasp a little. Dean snapped his head up to see that Sam was grabbing his head.

"Sammy?"

Sam moaned as his knees hit the pavement.

"Sam!" said Dean as he rushed around the dead vampire, dropping to his knees and grasping his little brother by the shoulders. "Sammy, talk to me!"

Sam closed his eyes as the pain he had not felt for two years racked his brain. Fire flooded the neurons in his brain and the top of his spinal cord as he tried to breathe through it. Distantly, he felt someone grabbing his shoulders, but the only thing occupying his thoughts was how much it hurt. He let in a sharp intake of breath as light exploded behind his eyelids. He opened his eyes to escape the brightness, but was greeted with a scene he wasn't familiar with.

A tall, slender woman with long blonde hair walked down an empty street at night. It was a somewhat urban town—not too many houses, not too many businesses and skyscrapers. The woman carried herself with a familiar confidence that radiated from her into the night. A shadow fell across her from behind, and she froze, jaw set, as she slowly scanned the darkness for danger. After a moment, she continued walking, tensing up for something.

A man suddenly jumped out at her from the darkness, arms raised to attack her. The woman raised a leg and nailed the attacker in the chest with a kick. The man was sent sprawling to the ground as the woman spun to face him, arms up. The man's face shot up and looked at her, his eyes black.

The blonde smiled cockily. "Boy, you picked the wrong girl."

She launched herself at him as he did the same. At the last second, she sidestepped him, using his momentum to push him into the wall behind her. As he sailed past, his hands knocked her bag from her shoulder, spilling its contents onto the street.

As the demon's head cracked sickeningly against the brick, the woman spun to face him, prepared to counter another attack. She watched him warily as her muscles tensed. When he lunged an arm at her, she ducked to the side and came up, driving an elbow into his back between his shoulder blades. As he went down again, she whisked a flask out from her pocket and flung its contents at the demon. He yelled in pain as smoke curled from him, the holy water burning his skin. The woman smoothly walked over and planted a solid kick to his jaw.

"Exorcizamus te," the woman began before the demon could make a move, "omnis immunudus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica." The demon began to twitch and yell as the exorcism started to take effect. "Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae. Hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei. Contremisce et effuge. Invocato a nobis et sancto terribili nomine. Quem inferi tremunt. Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, domine. Ut ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias, libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos."

As the demon convulsed, he let out an other-worldly, inhuman scream. The black smoke poured out of his mouth and into the night sky. The man's body slumped to the ground, and the woman bent over him to check on him. Her head whipped up when she heard sirens approaching. She raced to grab up all of her belongings and shove them back into her purse. She looked down to see that she had missed her driver's license: Clear Padackles, 1025 Manchester Ave., Branson, Missouri. She rushed into the night, ducking behind a house as a cop car screamed onto the road.

Sam slammed his eyes closed as another wave of pain hit him. When he opened them again, Dean was crouched in front of him with an all-too-familiar worried look on his face.

"Sam, come on, snap out of it!" Dean yelled. Sam blinked a couple of times as Dean shook him a little. "You with me?"

"Yeah," replied Sam shakily, shocked beyond belief.

"What was that? What happened?"

"I think…" muttered Sam. He had to pause to gather himself. "I think I just had a vision."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"What do you mean, a vision?" asked Dean. "You don't get visions anymore."

"Doesn't mean I can't," said Sam. "I mean, that's how this whole thing started in the first place. I'm surprised I haven't started having them sooner."

"Alright, alright," barked Dean. "So, what'd you see?"

"A woman," said Sam, his voice somewhat quiet. "I think she's a hunter."

"A hunter?"

"Yeah, I mean, you should've seen her, Dean. The way she took care of that demon…He couldn't lay a finger on her. She dodged and blocked every blow, landing a few good ones herself before she exorcized him."

"Exorcized?"

"Right off the top of her head. She didn't even have to think about it. She was amazing."

"You didn't happen to catch a name, or were you too busy checking her out?"

Sam gave him a look. "Better." He smiled. "I got an address."

************************************************************************************************************************

Sam and Dean pulled onto Highway 76, the main highway in the heart of Branson. Dean's black 1967 Chevy Impala inched down the road.

"Come on!" blurted Dean as his hand smacked the steering wheel. "It's bad enough that we're following your weirdo visions again, but we gotta be stuck in traffic jam hell?!"

"It's Branson," Sam told him. "What did you expect?"

"I don't know, but it sure as hell wasn't this!" yelled Dean. "I'm gonna run through an entire tank before we get to the next stoplight!"

There was a short honk, and Dean was about to start yelling at whoever it was until a dark blue '64 Mustang slowly cruised past in the opposite lane. The brunette in the driver's seat looked appreciatively at the Impala and waved her hand at Dean as she passed.

"At least we fit in, for once," said Sam. He looked over to see Dean still watching the Mustang in his side mirror. "Do you feel better now?"

Dean shrugged. "Maybe a little." He was trying to downplay it, but Sam could see that he was pleased the Impala was drawing some female attention.

"Here, turn right at this light," Sam said, glancing at the map. "We can take the back roads."

To Dean's obvious relief, the back roads were empty, and it was smooth sailing.

Sam glanced at the speedometer. "Not too fast. These roads are dangerous enough as is. The Impala can't corner them if you're speeding."

"I got it," said Dean, though Sam noticed his foot ease off the gas. "So, where does this chick live?"

"1025 Manchester. It's just outside the main strip of town."

"I don't even wanna know how you know that."

Sam stared at him, a smirk glancing his features. "It's a little invention called 'the map.'"

"Shut up, bitch. I mean, how do you know where this street is? You didn't even look it up on your trusty laptop."

Sam squirmed slightly in his seat, and looked down at the floorboards. "I've been around here before."

Dean looked over at him. "You have? When?"

"With Jessica."

Dean froze as he mentally kicked himself to being so tactless.

"It was summer 2005," Sam explained. "We wanted to take a vacation for a week. Neither of us had ever been here."

Dean hesitated before turning to Sam. "Sorry, man."

"It's okay," said Sam. "It's just…weird being back here, you know?"

There was an awkward silence as they drove until Dean chose to break it.

"So, what are we doing when we get there?"

"We're not going there," said Sam.

"What? Why?"

"She's a hunter, Dean. The last hunter who found out about my abilities tried to kill me…three times. And we're just gonna show up and tell her I had a vision about her?"

Dean sighed. "Yeah, you're right. What now?"

"Motel, I guess."

******************************************************************************************************************************

They dropped their duffels into the chairs at the table. Dean pulled a container out of his duffel and proceeded to salt the doors and windows. Sam pulled out some hex bags, putting them in the corners of the room.

"So, you got any idea how we're gonna tail her without being obvious?" asked Dean.

"Actually, I do," answered Sam tentatively.

"That's my Sammy. I knew you'd come up with something. Hit me with it."

"Astral projection."

Dean looked up at his brother. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"Sam, I don't know if you've noticed, but we don't exactly have a Pamela around to help us out."

Sam held up a sheet of paper. "We don't need her."

"What's that?"

"I wrote down the ritual."

"You did?"

"Never knew when we were gonna need it again. Now we can keep an eye on her without raising suspicion."

Dean smirked. "Nice."

"Not like that, Dean."

Dean grumbled as he grabbed a pair of plaid cotton pants out of his duffel. "How?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "How what?"

"How are you gonna read the ritual and put you under at the same time?"

"I planned for that," Sam told him. He pulled out two charms on the end of chords. "The spell will work for anyone wearing these."

Dean took one when it was handed to him and stared at it. He raised his eyebrows at Sam. "How the hell do we wake up?"

"Take them off."

"How? We'll be ghosts."

"No, take it off of our astral selves."

"Oh."

"First thing tomorrow, though," said Sam as he put the ritual back in his bag and pulled out his toothbrush. "Let's sleep for the night."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Dean laid out on his bed, placing the charm around his neck. He looked over to see Sam checking the salt and hex bags. He was also stringing a thin cord from a contraption near the door to the nightstand next to Sam's bed.

"What the hell is that?" asked Dean.

"Insurance," Sam replied. He hooked the cord onto something by the alarm clock. "We don't have anyone to protect us this time. If anyone breaks into the room, they'll trip this wire and the alarm will go off in my ear. I'll hear it, pull the charms off, and stop them."

"Why you? Why not me?"

"Because at this point, it's most likely a demon that'll break in, and…well…"

Dean grimaced as he looked up at the ceiling. "I have the knife, you know."

"By the time we hear the alarm and wake up, the demon will already be halfway to the beds. If I wake up, I can stop him faster than the knife."

Dean sighed. "Fine."

"Ready?" asked Sam as he put his charm on.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Sam laid himself on the other bed, carefully positioning his head as near to the nightstand as he could get it. He pulled the piece of paper out and began to read the incantation.

Dean watched as Sam's hand dropped onto his chest and he closed his eyes. Ready for it this time, Dean looked down at his hand on the bed, slowly lifting it. His arm broke at the elbow, creating two forearms: one lying still on the covers and the other raised in the air.

"Holy crap…" muttered Dean.

"Having fun?"

Dean looked up to see Sam standing at the foot of the other bed. Dean jumped up and looked down at the two of them on the beds.

"I still think this is wild," said Dean. "Wait, how are we getting there if we can't drive the car?"

"That's the other half of the surprise," smiled Sam.

Dean turned to look at him, confused. Sam turned and walked through the motel door. Dean hurried to catch up with his brother. Sam was standing on the sidewalk, staring at the Impala. When Dean looked closer, he could see one of the charms hanging from the rearview mirror.

Sam smiled. "I thought you might like that."

"But, it's a car. It doesn't have a soul to astral project."

"No, but the charm lets us use the Impala. Of course, the real thing will still be here, but at least we'll be able to follow her now."

"Oh, Sammy, you're awesome!"

"I'll remember you said that the next time you're getting onto me about something."

Dean rushed to the driver's side and reached a hand out, surprised when he felt cold metal against his skin. He smiled as he pulled the door open and slid behind the wheel. He looked at the ignition as Sam climbed in.

"We don't have keys," Dean told him.

"Don't need keys," Sam replied. "Not a real car." Sam reached over and stretched a palm across the ignition. The car immediately revved up, the engine sputtering to life. Sam leaned back in his seat.

Dean laughed. "Dude, haunted road trip."

Sam laughed as Dean put the Impala in reverse and pulled out of the parking space. As he put it in drive, they looked back at the parking space to see the Impala still sitting there. They pulled out of the parking lot, heading to the hunter's residence. Dean began to reach for the radio, but the radio lit up, and AC/DC blared out of the speakers.

"My baby knows what I want," Dean laughed. He leaned back in his seat as he bobbed his head along to "Highway to Hell."

Sam watched Dean maneuver around a few cars. "You know, we're not really here. You could just drive through them."

"I've got fourteen years of driving in my head. I can't just drive through other cars."

Sam looked back at the road to see a car in the opposite lane two hundred feet ahead of them drifting lazily into their lane. The car ahead of them slammed on its brakes, but the two cars impacted, causing a massive tangle of metal.

Completely forgetting about the fact that they were ghosts, Sam gripped the dashboard as Dean slammed on the brakes. Sam felt a pulling sensation, and looked up to see that the accident was gone. The car skidded to a stop as Sam turned in his seat to see that the accident was behind them now. Sam frowned and looked over at Dean. Dean was breathing hard and staring at the road.

"Did you do that?" asked Sam.

"In that second, I forgot about…" Dean told him quietly. "I thought that we were gonna…I just really wanted us to be somewhere other than there. I guess I was just concentrated enough to…zap the car over here."

Sam grinned and started to laugh a little.

Dean looked at him. "What?"

"It's just…you learn faster as a ghost than I do as a psychic."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "It's 'cause you're getting old."

"You're the thirty-year-old."

"Whatever."

Dean put his foot on the gas, and they sped off. After another ten minutes, they pulled up outside the girl's house.

"Whoa," said Dean as they climbed out of the Impala. "This isn't what I expected for a _hunter's_ house."

It was a one-story brick house with a garage. It wasn't manicured, but it was kept in a somewhat good shape.

"Let's go," said Sam.

They walked up to the house and through the front door. The living room and dining room looked nice enough, but when they got to the bedroom, they stopped short.

"Holy crap…" muttered Dean. The walls were neatly covered with articles and pages from occult books. Charms and amulets adorned the dresser and a duffel bag sat at the door. Dean leaned over and checked a plane ticket on top. "Dude, check it out. Plane ticket for Westhaven. Apparently, she just got in last night. She was the hunter who killed that vampire."

There was a noise from the depths of a walk-in closet. The brothers moved to the door to find a blonde woman sitting at a desk along the back wall. Along the walls were guns, knives, stakes, salt, holy water, crucifixes, taser guns, gasoline, silver knives, silver bullets, some jars of dead man's blood, iron crowbars, iron rounds, salt rounds, and the list went on.

"Son of a bitch!" said Dean.

They watched as the woman took a cloth and cleaned a pistol. She tossed it to the side and reassembled the .45 pistol expertly…and in two seconds flat. The girl stood up and grabbed a silver knife, tucking it into her left boot. She grabbed the .45 and tucked it into the back of her jeans. She grabbed a button-up, long-sleeved shirt and turned to exit the closet.

Dean's eyes widened. "Do you see that?"

Sam's gazed darted to the woman's skin, just below her left collarbone. "Is that an anti-possession tattoo?"

The woman locked the closet and threw her shirt on. The sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. Sam frowned as she grabbed a brown leather jacket and a laptop.

"Dude, are you seeing this?" asked Sam.

"Seeing what?" asked Dean as the woman walked out of the room.

"She's totally you!"

"What? She is not!"

"The knife, the gun, the clothes—"

"Well, in case you didn't notice, she also picked up a laptop. I'd say that falls into your category."

They walked out to the front lawn as the garage door opened. Dean's eyes widened as a black 1969 Chevy Chevelle rolled down the driveway.

Sam looked at Dean. "Not you, huh?"

"Total coincidence," stuttered Dean.

Joan Jett's "I Love Rock 'n' Roll" began playing out of the Chevelle's speakers as it rolled away. Sam looked at Dean, smiling.

"Shut up," muttered Dean.

They climbed into the Impala and sped after her. She wound through the streets for twenty minutes before pulling through a gate.

Dean looked up at the sign. "College of the Ozarks? She's a college student?"

Sam grabbed his head as an ear-splitting shriek sounded.

"Sammy?!"

"The alarm," Sam gasped as he pulled the charm from around his neck.

Sam sat up on the motel bed and flung his hand out towards the doorway. Sam stopped as he took in the scene in front of him. A maid clutched at her heart, her eyes wide and towels on the floor. Sam quickly lowered his hand and shut off the alarm.

"S-sorry," stuttered Sam. "We, uh…we're heavy sleepers, and…well…we've heard that people like to steal from tourists in vacation cities like this."

"Paranoid much?!" exclaimed the maid as she stopped to pick up her towels.

Sam rushed forward to help. "Well, there was a household break-in when we were kids, and our mom was killed. I guess we are paranoid."

"You think?" she said. She had calmed a lot at the mention of their late mother.

"I'm sorry. We didn't mean to scare you."

The maid smiled. "Well, next time, remember the 'Do Not Disturb' sign."

Sam smiled. "Will do."

The maid glanced back at the peacefully sleeping Dean, looking amazed that the commotion didn't wake him. "Is he okay?"

"He took some sleeping pills. He'll be fine. He's gonna kill me, but he'll be fine."

"Okay. See you around." She moved onto the next room, peeking in the room as she slowly opened it.

Sam sat on the bed and started laughing. He sucked in deep breaths between laughs. Dean gasped and sat up next to him. Sam turned to him, laughing his head off.

"Where is it?" Dean asked, panicked. "Did you get him? Is everything—why are you laughing?"

Sam fought down the laughter. "We forgot the 'Do Not Disturb' sign."

Dean stared at him, and then glanced at the towels piled on the table near the door. Dean started laughing as he sank back onto the bed. "Oh, I wish I coulda seen her face."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Sam flipped the laptop shut and put his hands over his eyes, groaning.

"You okay?" asked Dean.

"This is just so frustrating," moaned Sam.

"Well, what do you got so far?" asked Dean.

Sam lowered his hands. "Clear Padackles is a sophomore at the College of the Ozarks Nursing School. She's had straight A's her entire life, currently holds a 4.0 for her entire college career, and is a member of the Golden Key International Honor Society. She was born May 13, 1989, to Eve and Joshua Padackles in St. Louis, Missouri. But that's not all. A normal birth certificate and proof of citizenship appears in legal records within twenty-four hours of birth, right?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"These records didn't appear until March 22, 2004. I've looked over everything. Her entire history didn't exist until that date…almost as if something or someone planted it there deliberately."

"Why would they do that?"

"I don't know, but there's a name that keeps coming up in my research: Zzyzx."

"Ziz, what?"

"Zzyzx. It's a company that specializes in creating new technology to better the world."

"Why would Clear be tied to them?"

"I'm not sure. Let me check some more."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"Holy crap…" muttered Sam.

Dean perked up. "What?" Sam just stared at the laptop. "Sam!"

"You're not going to believe this."

"Try me."

"Okay, uh…In the 1920s, Einstein formulated a theory."

"What?"

"Just go with me on this for a second. Einstein spent several weeks longer in his mother's womb, which allowed his brain more time to develop. That's why he used nine percent of his brain matter. The average human being uses only seven…well, five in your case."

Dean glared at him. "Very funny."

Sam smiled. "So, Einstein believed that if an embryo stayed in its mother's womb for more than the normal gestation period, the brain would develop more, making the child smarter. In the '50s, a group of scientists and visionaries called Latnok started up Einstein's experiments again. They planted embryos in surrogate mothers, and found a way to prolong gestation. They finally had one successful pregnancy, of thirteen months. Unfortunately, the mother died when the baby was born, so they ceased the experiment.

"When the child, Adam Baylin, grew up, he used his advanced brain power and devised a chamber to house the embryo. It would perform the same functions as a placenta: nourish, protect, feed. He took his own DNA and created an embryo, finally managing to make it work. Unfortunately, the company Zzyzx, who was doing the experiments, turned on him. They wanted to keep the embryo in the chamber instead of extracting it. When Adam fled the company, they kept the subject in the tank for fifteen years. For some reason, the subject was scheduled for termination, but a security guard, Tom Foss, extracted the kid and gave him to a foster family. The boy had a brain capacity of one hundred percent. It gave him heightened senses, heightened memory, and many amazing abilities.

"Shortly after this, a female subject they had been working on also escaped. But there had been a third one that no one ever knew about. A security guard extracted a female subject and trained her for a week, teaching her about everything. And on March 22, 2004, he gave her to a foster family by the name of Padackles."

Dean caught that last part. "Wait, so you're saying Clear is one of these…pod kids?"

"That's only the half of it," Sam told him.

"How could there be more?"

"The male subject, 781227, got his DNA from Adam Baylin. The female subject, 781228, got her DNA from Adam's female counterpart, Sarah. But Clear got her DNA…from us."

Dean stared at Sam, blinking slowly. "You wanna run that by me again?"

"Somehow, they got a hold of our DNA, and combined them into one person."

"But she's a girl."

"The human sex chromosome is XX for female, and XY for male. So, they took your X and my X, and got XX."

"So, she's our sister?"

"Technically…yeah. What I don't get is where they would have gotten our DNA from."

Dean stopped, mouth hanging open comically. "Son of a bitch…"

"What?"

"Remember back in '88 when we were both mauled pretty good by that werewolf, and Dad had to rush us to the hospital?"

"Yeah, we were pretty much hanging on by a thread. Dad was freaked to hell."

"When he hauled us out of that warehouse, he put us in the Impala and rushed back to the warehouse real quick."

"He did?"

"A few days later, I asked him about it. He said he saw some figures heading into the warehouse, but they were gonna when he went in."

"Zzyzx."

"They must've been following us for a few days, looking for the perfect specimens." Dean smiled a little at that thought. "Our blood was all over that warehouse floor."

Sam's head snapped up. "Blood?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"If they used our blood for DNA, then…"

Dean caught his look. "The demon blood."

"You think she got dosed?"

"Who knows. It might not have been enough."

"Whatever. Let's go find her."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Twenty minutes and one Latin incantation later, the boys' astral selves were pulling up to the _Titanic_ museum.

"Sam, we don't have time for you to go all geek boy," Dean complained.

Sam glared at him. "She works here."

Dean looked up at the building in front of them, a half-size replica of the liner. "Really? Here?"

"She's a history buff."

"How do you know that?"

"She's minoring in it."

They climbed out of the Impala and walked towards the front door. They walked through the museum until they found her. They had just rounded the corner from a rendition of a third-class corridor, and they found themselves in a perfect replica of the first-class grand staircase.

"Whoa," said Dean. "Think we'll see Kate Winslet?"

Sam ignored him as he gestured to Clear. She was standing at the foot of the staircase in a beautiful, ornate sapphire dress. She greeted the museum-goers, smiling and sharing fun facts about the _Titanic_.

"This is so weird, man," Dean muttered as they watched their "sister."

Clear had gotten Dean's dark blonde hair and Sam's dark eyes. She was built halfway between Sam and Dean: tall, yet somewhat stocky.

"Well, the staircase is actually a complete replica of the one on the _Titanic_, minus the railings," Clear was explaining to a family of four. "The floor of the staircase was built with linoleum, because it was a newer, cheaper invention, and yet it still looked like marble. The gold plates along the edge of the stairs were added to keep the linoleum from curling."

"I knew it," said Dean. "Total geek."

"She's a computer brain," Sam told him. "Of course she's a geek."

"Just your type, then, huh?" said Dean.

"Ugh, no, Dean. That'd be like dating myself…and you."

Dean grimaced. "Ugh, that's gross."

"You brought it up."

They stayed in the room, watching Clear until she was relieved by another woman in first-class dress. The brothers walked out to the Impala, waiting for Clear to come out. When she made her way to the Chevelle, she was dressed in a long-sleeved plaid shirt and jean jacket.

"See, she dresses like you, too," blurted Dean. They climbed into the Impala and followed her out of the lot and onto the winding streets. When she pulled up to her house, she parked across the street.

"What is she doing?" asked Sam. Leaving her possessions in the car, Clear climbed out and carefully stalked toward her house. "Something's up."

They walked up to the house and through the wall. Clear quietly opened the front door and closed it, hardly making a sound. She deliberately made her way to the living room, finding a woman standing there.

"Breaking into a hunter's house?" Clear stated. "How thick could you get?"

The woman spun around, palm out, and shot bright light at Clear. As it subsided, Clear just smiled.

"My turn," she chided as she flung a hand out. The woman went to the floor under Clear's punch. The woman came up and flung her hand out as Clear opened her mouth. No sound came out as she tried to speak.

"Guess you can't your exorcism now," the demon taunted.

Clear shut her mouth and glared at the demon. She raised her hand and held it out to the demon, palm out. The woman's body convulsed as it lit up from within. Clear concentrated as the demon died, the body falling to the ground.

Clear huffed out a breath, the demon's spell broken. "That good enough for you…bitch?" Clear's eyes rolled up into her head and she dropped to the floor, seizing.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Dean. He and Sam rushed towards her, totally helpless. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," said Sam.

"Stay here," Dean ordered. "I'll be right back." He pulled his charm off and disappeared.

Sam knelt next to Clear's head as she convulsed on the floor. Sam concentrated and reached out, placing his hands on Clear's shoulders, trying to still her.

"Come on, Dean," muttered Sam. An alarm sounded in his ear, and he winced from the sound. "Ah, shut it off, shut it off!" The sound stopped. "Thank you."

************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Dean jumped up from the bed and bolted for the door, tripping the cord. The alarm sounded, and Dean rushed back to the bed, shutting it off.

"Sorry, Sammy," Dean muttered as he moved to the door again.

He sped his way towards Clear's house, jumping out and kicking the door in. Clear seemed to have calmed a little, but when Dean neared her, her convulsions increased. Dean looked over at the empty air at Clear's head.

_Sammy was holding her down,_ Dean realized. He placed one arm under Clear's neck and one arm under her knees, scooping her off the floor.

"Sammy, I got her!" Dean told the empty living room. "Meet us at the hospital."

Dean placed Clear gently in the backseat and then climbed in, peeling away from the curb.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Sam headed into the hospital, approaching the front desk.

"I'm here to see my sister," Sam told the nurse. "Clear Padackles."

The nurse checked the computer. "Second floor, room 2413."

"Thank you," Sam smiled as he headed for the elevator. Once on the second floor, he headed down the hall.

Sam found Clear lying in bed, conscious, as Dean and the doctor stood beside her.

"Do you have any recent mental or physical stress?" asked the doctor.

"No, not really," said Clear. "I'm not even sure how he found me—"

"You called me, remember, sis?" Dean quickly supplied. "Then I heard you collapse. I rushed right over."

Clear smiled. "Oh, yeah, right. Sorry, it's just a little jumbled."

Sam walked into the room. "Hey, sis. You feeling better?"

Clear's eyes widened a little as she looked up at yet another unknown "relative." "Yeah, bro. Just fine."

"Well, Ms. Padackles, we're gonna go ahead and keep you overnight for observation," said the doctor.

"Thank you," said Clear. The doctor walked out, and Clear looked between Sam and Dean. "Why did I just tell him that you're my brothers?"

"Because we are," said Dean.

Clear froze. "Wanna run that by me again?"

"We're your DNA donors," Sam explained. Clear's eyes widened. "Yeah, we know about Zzyzx."

Clear seemed shell-shocked. "You're Sam and Dean Winchester?"

Dean looked up at Sam and back at Clear. "You know about us?"

"Well, Chris told me your names," Clear told them. She looked between the boys, and her eyes lighted on Dean's amulet. "Dean…how did you get out of hell?"

"How do you know about that?" asked Dean.

Clear seemed to hesitate. "I read Carver Edlund's books."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Of course you did."

"You know about them?" asked Clear.

"Yeah, we just met him last week," said Sam.

"Did you figure out how he was writing them?" asked Clear.

"He's a prophet," said Dean. "Writing the 'Winchester gospel.' And his real name is Chuck."

"Huh…" Clear glanced at Sam. "So I assume you know about the whole—" She caught herself and looked at Dean.

"You mean, the demon blood thing?" Dean asked.

Clear looked up at Sam. "You finally told him?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Why don't you fill her in."

***********************************************************************************************************************************

Clear stared at the two brothers standing in front of her.

"Angels?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Sam.

"Angels?!" Clear exclaimed.

"Yeah, angels," said Dean, a little frustrated.

"So, let me get this straight," Clear stated. "They dragged you out of hell because you broke the first seal, and now you have to stop the apocalypse. And Sam has been working on his mojo so he can kill Lillith and stop her from breaking the seals."

"Yeah, that's pretty much it," said Dean.

"Okay…" Clear muttered. "Good to know."

"Hey, Clear," said Sam. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Why did you have a seizure?" asked Sam.

"I used my abilities," Clear answered.

"But even when I've pushed my mind further than it could go, the worst I ever got was a migraine and a nosebleed."

"I'm different."

"But you have a higher brain power, so—"

"Exactly. My mind is very great, very powerful…but so is its toll that it can take on my body. With as much activity as there is in my brain, it leaves me prone to seizures. It's why I try to avoid my abilities as much as I can."

"And that's what happened at the house?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, that's another thing. How did you know about that?" asked Clear.

"We were kind of…there," Dean told her.

"I had a vision about you, so we became ghosts using astral projection to keep an eye on you to learn more," Sam explained.

Clear nodded. "I'll bet this has been an interesting few days for you two." Clear glanced at Dean. "Did you see my baby?"

"Hell, yeah," said Dean. "That's a sweet ride. What is it, a 325?"

"327 four barrel," Clear told him.

"300 horses?"

"375." (Author's Note: Sorry, I don't know cars.)

Sam laughed, and they looked over at him. "I'm sorry. It's just…the two of you talking about cars…"

"Speaking of cars, I gotta see the Metallicar," said Clear.

"Metalli—what?" asked Dean.

"Metallicar," Clear told them. "It's what the fans call the Impala."

"They gave it a name?" asked Dean. He smiled. "That's awesome."

"Even John's truck had a name: Truckzilla."

Dean and Sam laughed at that.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Clear grabbed the pen out of the air as it floated towards her. She looked down at her backpack on the floor. Three textbooks, four spiral notebooks and three folders shot out of the bag along with her planner.

"Whoa," came a voice from the doorway. She looked up to see the boys in the doorway, staring at the objects floating above the bed.

"Hey," said Clear as she grabbed the planner, opening it to that week.

"Is that your psychic thing or your brain thing?" asked Dean.

"A bit of both," Clear explained. "That's why it doesn't tax my system."

"That's so weird," said Sam.

Clear glanced down at her assignments: a paper on Nursing Legislation, a few questions from her American History 1900-present textbook, a paper on the growth process of the human embryo, and a project on ten medical terms from a television show. Clear grabbed her History textbook, her History notebook and her History folder, letting all her books fall into three separate piles on the floor based on subject. She looked up at a bedside table in the corner, and it slowly rolled over to her.

"Aw, you are so Carrie!" Dean said. "She could give you a run for your money, Sammy."

Clear laughed as she put the books on the table. She dropped her pen as her hand went to her head.

"Doesn't tax your system, huh?" said Dean.

"No, it's not that," Clear muttered. "They have a coma guy next door."

"So?" asked Dean.

"My brain can pick up the brainwaves," said Clear distantly. She was staring straight ahead of her. "Get me some blank paper."

Dean grabbed some computer printouts and flipped them over, placing them on the table. A box of crayons flew out of Clear's bag and into her waiting hand. She pulled out a green color and brought it to the paper. She closed her eyes and concentrated before looking down at the paper. She started striking the paper, creating green dots on the paper.

"What are you doing?" asked Sam.

"Just give me a minute," Clear told them.

Fifteen minutes later, Clear had a perfect, near-photographic drawing of a family in the park. They were sitting on a blanket, enjoying a picnic. The woman was blonde and was laughing. She had two small children, a black-haired boy and a blonde-haired girl, both pinned down under her tickling fingers. At the bottom of the page, a picnic table stood with a note lying on the table: I love you, Jenny. Hands were stretched flat on either side of the paper.

Clear shoved the drawing at Sam. "Here, go give it to them. Don't tell them where it came from; just say you found it outside their room." Sam stared from the drawing to her. "Just go. I'll explain later."

Sam headed out of the room and headed to the neighboring room. The door was open, revealing a black-haired man in the bed with a respirator, clearly in a coma. A blonde woman sat in the chair next to his bed, along with a black-haired teenage boy and blonde-haired girl in her twenties. Sam looked down at the paper. At least twenty years appeared to have passed since that day in the park. Sam raised his hand and knocked on the door. The woman looked up, a little stunned.

"Sorry, I don't mean to intrude, but…" Sam began as he held out the drawing, "I found this outside your door."

The woman walked over and took the drawing. Her eyes widened as she stared at it. "Where did you get this?"

"I found it outside your door. I thought you might have dropped it."

"How…this isn't…" the woman looked up at Sam, tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry. It's just…I remember this day. We all went to the park for the day. Shawn had sat at the table the whole time, writing notes over and over again. He threw them away before I could look at them." She started crying as she looked down at her husband. "He was always so distant. I thought he never loved us." She looked down at the note in the drawing. "He did." She looked up at Sam. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," said Sam. He walked out and looked back to see the three of them hugging and kissing the man goodbye. He walked into Clear's room, and stared at her. "How did you do that?"

"It's part of having hypersensitivity," said Clear. "The thoughts and memories are transferred to brainwaves in the machine, right?" Sam nodded. "I can pick up those brainwaves. Sometimes, when I'm around someone in a coma, they can sense me and send me messages for those left behind."

"Whoa, seriously?" asked Dean.

"Yeah," said Clear. She looked down at her hands. "Hey, Dean, can you get me some coffee?"

"I don't think you should be having coffee," said Dean, always the protective older brother. "You're in here because of a seizure. You can't caffeinate yourself."

"Fine, then," Clear bit off. "Some…jello."

"Jello?"

"Just go."

Dean walked out as Sam turned to Clear.

"What is it?" asked Sam.

Clear looked up at him. "Two things. They got your DNA from blood, didn't they? That's why I'm a psychic?"

Sam sat on the side of her bed, turned towards her. "Yeah, they did."

"That explains a lot," said Clear. "The second thing…I don't wanna stay here overnight. It's most likely that they're going over the CT scans, and they're probably on their way here to ask why I have such a high amount of brain activity. I can't stay here any longer. Can you two sneak me out?"

"Yeah, I'm fine with it," said Sam. "But…we have to convince Dean. Being your older brother, I know he won't let you get out of the hospital after you've had a seizure until the doctors say you're fine."

"Hm…what to do," Clear pondered as she caught Sam's eye. They smiled as they caught each other's drift. "Oh, this'll be fun."

***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Dean got off the elevator with a bowl of jello for Clear, and headed for her room. He walked in to see her and Sam smiling. He stopped in the doorway. "What's up, guys?" They looked up at him.

"Dean, we need to get Clear out of here," said Sam.

"What?" said Dean. "Why?"

"Because the doctors took a CT scan of her brain," said Sam. "That'll raise questions."

"So?" said Dean. "We'll come up with something." He walked in and set the jello on Clear's table.

"Dean, come on, I need to leave," said Clear. "I need you guys to sneak me out of here."

"Clear, you just had a seizure," said Dean. "The doctors said they want to keep you here for observation. That obviously means that you're not out of the woods yet."

"But, Dean, it's for observation," said Sam. "That doesn't mean anything. Not to mention, we can't afford to hang around any longer."

"I said no," said Dean. "She's not ready. We're not going." He looked up to see both Sam and Clear making that stupid puppy-dog face.

_Oh, great, she got that from him,_ Dean thought, sighing. _It's hard enough to resist when Sam does it, but now I got two puppy-dog eyes? You've gotta be kidding me. I never could resist that._

"Okay, fine!" said Dean. "Let's get the hell out of here." As he turned to pick up their duffels, he saw Sam and Clear smile at each other. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But you two owe me one."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Dean walked by the front desk as two men in suits approached the secretary.

"May I help you?" asked the woman.

"Yes, we're Agents Danden and Woods," said one of the men. Dean stopped and looked over to see them flashing badges. "Do you have a young woman that just checked in?"

"The name?" asked the woman.

"What check-ins have you had in the past twenty-four hours?" asked the other agent.

The woman balked. "Uh…just two patients. A man who received an appendectomy, and a woman admitted for a seizure."

Dean made his way discreetly to the stairs and darted up them. When he reached the room, he found Sam and Clear packing their stuff. Clear had gotten dressed into her normal clothes. "We gotta move."

"What?" asked Sam. "Why?"

"Zzyzx," Dean answered. "They found her."

Clear's eyes widened, and she grabbed her bag. "Let's go."

Dean and Sam followed her as she exited the room. She looked up to see that no one was around.

"Wait," said Clear. She turned and held out her hand to the room. The TV fell to the floor, the chairs sailed across the room, the EKG machine imploded in a shower of sparks, the bed upended itself, and the table soared into the window, breaking it. As she caused this commotion, Clear let out a high-pitched scream. She dug a knife out and drew a line of blood across her arm. She flung the knife in an arc, spraying blood on the walls.

"Run!" Clear whispered. Sam and Dean took off after her as she skidded around the corner. They slammed through the door to the stairwell and stood against the door.

"What the hell was that?" asked Dean.

"I had to make it look like I was taken," explained Clear. "For obvious reasons."

"Well, what now?" asked Dean.

Clear reached up and latched her hand onto the wire to the security camera. Sparks jumped from her fingers to the wire and the light on the camera glowed bright for a moment. About five seconds later, the camera lens exploded, blowing sparks.

"I disabled the security cameras," explained Clear.

"Where were you when we infiltrated the Milwaukee bank looking for the shapeshifter?" said Dean. The three of them darted down to the first floor. Clear flung her arm out and cocked her head to the side.

"What are you doing?" asked Sam.

"Quiet!" said Clear. "I'm trying to listen." She closed her eyes and listened before grabbing the door handle. "Go!"

They darted out the door to find the last of the doctors disappearing down the halls to search for Clear. They made it out to the parking lot and headed for the Impala when Clear stopped, spinning towards the brothers. She flung her hand out, and they were pushed back into the bushes as a bullet hit the blacktop where they had been standing. They looked up to see Clear spinning away from another bullet.

Clear looked over and spotted a puddle by the hospital. She ran over to it and stood in it, raising her palms.

"Holy shit!" yelled Dean. Clear had risen from the pavement and soared up onto the roof of the overhang, where the shots were coming from. The shots stopped as Clear began her assault on the assassin.

She grabbed the semi-automatic and yanked it out of the man's hands, hitting him in the face with it. Another man began to approach her from behind, but Clear threw the rifle behind her without looking. The rifle hit the man straight in the nose, a shower of blood running down his face as he collapsed to his knees.

Clear ducked a swing from the assassin and bent backwards as he lunged his arms at her. She spun around, appearing behind him and wrapping her arms around his neck. The assassin began to struggle, but Clear tightened her hold. After a couple seconds, the assassin went limp, and Clear placed him gently on the ground.

The man with the broken nose finally got up and pulled a taser gun on Clear. As it was fired, Clear snaked a hand out and caught the electrodes. She reversed the electric current, and the man dropped the gun in shock. Clear darted forward, ducking one, two, three punches before grabbing the man's hand and twisting it to the side. He yelled in pain as Clear jumped, flipping up and backwards. Her feet hit the man in the jaw, knocking him flat on his back, before she finished flipping and landed on her feet.

"Whoa," said Dean. Clear walked to the edge of the overhang and calmly jumped off, landing perfectly. Dean and Sam ran over to her. "Where'd you learn how to do that?"

"Jackie Chan movies," Clear answered, smirking.

Dean laughed. "No, seriously."

"Seriously. Jackie Chan movies."

"You learned how to take on two assassins with machine guns by watching movies?" asked Sam.

"Computer brain, remember?" said Clear. "Come on, let's get out of here. I'm driving."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean stopped her. Nobody drove his baby. "No, you aren't."

"Oh, come on," Clear bit off. "I think I can handle her."

"Uh, think again," said Dean. "In the back."

Clear rolled her eyes and climbed into the backseat as Dean and Sam sat in the front.

"Bitch," said Clear.

"Hey, that's my line," Dean told her.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

The boys watched as Clear shoved her bags into the trunk of her Chevelle.

"Okay, you're doing what, again?" asked Dean.

"I have to leave," said Clear.

"Leave?" asked Sam.

"My house, my town, my friends, my job, my school, everything," said Clear.

"Why?" asked Dean.

"They tracked me down," Clear told them. "I have to get lost again."

"Again?" asked Sam.

"This isn't the first time they've found me."

"I think you got your message across last night," said Dean.

"There'll be more where they came from," said Clear. "I can't stay here."

"Well, before you get out of Dodge," said Dean with a smile, "wanna grab a beer?"

Clear stopped and seemed to consider. "It wouldn't hurt."

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************

"Oh, totally," said Clear. "Nothing beats Boston."

"Maybe AC/DC," said Dean.

"Yeah, I'll agree with you there," laughed Clear. The three of them were in a bar downtown, sharing a drink.

"So, tell us more about yourself," said Sam. "I mean, we're basically the same person, but you're like a stranger."

"Well…" said Clear. "You know about the classic rock, classic car, college student bits…Uh…nothing really to tell. Oh, I got both of your fears."

"Both of our fears?" asked Dean.

"Flying and clowns," Clear told them.

Dean and Sam both laughed, and Clear joined them.

"So, you took down that vampire in Westhaven?" asked Sam.

"Without a machete," Clear told them.

"What'd you do, rip its head off?" asked Dean.

Clear shook her head. "Nail file."

Dean laughed. "A nail file? How the hell did you do that?"

"It's all about coordinating your muscles and momentum to optimize the power of your thrust."

"Hey, back at the hospital," started Sam, "were you flying?"

Clear laughed out loud. "No, no. That wasn't flying. That was more like levitating."

"Levitating?" stated Dean, impressed.

"I used the puddle I was standing in to reverse the polarities between the water in the puddle and the water in my own body. The human body is more than fifty percent water. It's like a magnet. The north pole of a magnet, when placed next to the south pole of another magnet, will repel the other one, right? Same basic concept. That's also how I flung you guys out of the way. I used the water in our bodies to push you away from me."

"Awesome," smirked Dean, taking a drink.

Clear glanced at her watch. "I really should be getting out of town."

"Okay," said Sam. They got up, setting money on the table for their drinks, and walked out to the cars parked side-by-side. Sam and Dean leaned on the front of the Impala as Clear leaned on the front of the Chevelle.

"So, will you be okay?" asked Sam.

Clear sighed. "Yeah, it's just…I'm gonna miss this place. I was just starting to settle in again. Now I have to leave…again."

"The luck of a Winchester," said Dean.

"Yeah," Clear laughed. She looked into the distance where the tan and black funnels of the museum shone above the trees. "I loved that job, too."

Sam looked at her. "You did?"

"Yeah," Clear went on. "The _Titanic_ has always been my favorite story in history. And working there, it just…I don't know, it made me feel like I belonged for once in my life…like I wasn't a freak."

Sam smiled. "I know how that feels."

Clear looked at him, knowing he was referring to the few years that Sam had escaped the life of a hunter and gone to college. Of course, that was before the Yellow-Eyed Demon had killed his girlfriend, Jessica. And before the visions started. "Yeah, you would know." Clear thought for a moment. "I think I'm gonna take a leaf outta your book. Just driving from case to case; never settle in one place."

"You wanna come with us?" Dean asked.

"Nah, you'd just slow me down," said Clear. They laughed a little. "Hey, here's my number." She handed them a piece of paper. "Call if you ever need me."

Sam handed her a paper, too. "You do the same."

Clear walked over and hugged the both of them. "See you later." She climbed into her Chevelle and pulled away into the night.

THE END


	11. Chapter 11

**WARNING!**

**Public service announcement!**

I am not quitting fanfiction! I am currently working on printing and binding my current stories for my storage. When I am finished with that, I will work on my stories again.

I will first do a songfic (my first one). Then a season three story. Then a mermaid story. Then Don't You Cry No More 3. Then The Winchester That Wasn't 2. I'm excited about all of them!

I'll see you guys in a few weeks!


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